


Thoughts of Depression

by wayward_author



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Depression, Freeform, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 18:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6819142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_author/pseuds/wayward_author
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is hard. Depression makes it unbearable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Suffocating

It's just…suffocating...  
Life, I mean.  
There are good days, and there are bad days.  
Highs, and lows.  
The light, and the dark.  
Life is the drug we can never recover from, only adapt to.  
Which can be the hardest thing a person can do.  
Adapt.  
In this current world, there are too many ways our mind can fuck up on.  
Too many ways for it to become our worst enemy.  
Abuse.  
Illnesses.  
Addictions.  
Every aspect of our being is sculpted by our environment.  
Sometimes, it can make is easy, others, not really.  
For the ones who have been through some dramatic, over the top, negasonic bullshit, it usually leads to a common state of mind.  
Depression.  
Depression is the added kick to life for when it gets to the point everything is filled with rainbows and clouds.  
For when everything is light.  
For when everything is right.  
And then, the voices start, the vision is skewed, and insecurity becomes our best, and most times, only friend.  
They poke at you, even when you smile.  
‘What are you doing?’  
‘You’re useless.’  
‘They’re nice now, but they hate you. Don’t be be fooled.’  
‘You can’t do that, everything you touch is destroyed.’  
‘Why are you still here?’  
‘You have a knife for a reason.’  
And while this goes on, your breaking, chipping, shattering soul is screaming out for help.  
No one comes.  
No one listens.  
No one cares.  
Maybe the voices are right…  
Maybe they are the one's calling for help…  
Maybe they have what you need…  
All you have to do to let them win, is listen.  
Life is suffocating.  
And depression is the hand that will drown you further.


	2. Death

Death is fascinating.  
Always has been.  
Always will be.  
I wanted work in the field, so to speak.  
Catch serial killers.  
Then it changed to picturing how I could die.  
Car crashes.  
Plane crashes.  
Stabbed in the chest.  
Stomach.  
Head.  
Slicing my arms.  
Legs.  
Neck.  
But if there we're a way I'd pick, it would be with water.  
But even as I write this, I'm afraid to die.  
Even with my.mind against me, I'm fighting to live.  
It may not seem like it, but I am.  
No one close knows this.  
Not even Her.  
Her who is my closest friend.  
We talk everyday, and yet I can't find it in myself to tell her.  
She has her own problems.  
And I'm here slowly losing myself.  
It's funny, I don't act like this when it comes to losing a lover.  
Only when it seems like I'm losing a close friend.  
I don't know what I would do without Her.  
I'm afraid to find out, but I have a feeling I will soon enough.  
I'm scared.  
So scared.  
And she doesn't know it.  
That picture of myself bleeding from being stabbed in the stomach, hands red from holding it tightly in vein, eyes slowly dying out, that how it feels right now.  
And she'll never know, not unless she reads this.  
And if you are, friend, just know that no matter what, I love you and I'm still here for you.  
When I'm gone, I'm here for you.  
When you never want to see me again, I'll still be here for you.  
Always.  
I hope you know that, regardless of whatever happens.  
I'm sorry I can’t tell you personally.   
Not now.  
Not yet.  
Just know, I'm here.  
And I love you.  
Even if it hurts so much, I want to rip my heart out.  
It might be better in the end.  
Maybe...


End file.
